


Kiss and Not Tell

by guti



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Dirty Talk, Kiss and Tell, M/M, Pillow Talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-12 17:11:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5674078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guti/pseuds/guti
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Six weeks into their intimate relationship and they're lying in bed in a post-coital haze when Jamie finally asks the question that’s been on his mind for awhile now.</p><p>“Alright, mate, who taught you all this?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kiss and Not Tell

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pimpam](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pimpam/gifts).



Six weeks into their intimate relationship and they're lying in bed in a post-coital haze when Jamie finally asks the question that’s been on his mind for awhile now.

“Alright, mate, who taught you all this?”

Beside him, Gary isn’t moving, flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling. Jamie’s listening carefully for any cues, any signs that might give away the answer. Instead he’s met with an infuriating lack of anything until Gary slowly turns his head to look at him.

“What’d you mean?”

Jamie furrows his eyebrows, shifting in the sheets so that he’s propped up on an elbow, chin resting in his hand. He narrows his eyes, scrutinizing. “Who taught you what to do?”

Gary manages to look a bit baffled, infuriatingly so. Jamie is sure it’s a ruse, but he can’t quite get a read on him. “That’s vague, isn’t it? Who taught me what?”

“Who taught you to fuck.”

“Who taught me to fuck?” If it weren’t for the faint reddish tinge to his cheeks, Gary might actually have played it off as a joke. Instead, he looks like a flustered schoolboy, and Jamie takes it as a victory of sorts.

“Who taught you to fuck men, Gaz?” Jamie stares him down, like he’s a hound on a scent, determined to persist until he’s got his answer. Gary squirms a little. “I mean, a fella don’t just pop out of the womb knowing how to suck a dick, does he? Ergo…”

“Ergo you’re speculating. How’d you know it’s not an innate, naturally found talent that I just happen to have? Maybe I’m gifted in ways you weren’t. Wouldn’t be the first time that’s happened, eh.”

Jamie gasps, sputters, offended. “I never heard you complaining, Neville!”

“No one’s complaining! Except maybe you. Ungrateful.”

“I’m not complaining!” Jamie scowls, suddenly feeling vaguely like this might’ve been a poorly thought out plan. “I’m just saying—”

“You’re just saying you need an explanation as to why you get off shagging a man.” Gary raises his eyebrows, like he’s daring Jamie to say otherwise. “Because obviously I must’ve done this before, right? Clearly I’ve been shagging men my entire life, otherwise how would I know what feels good or how to touch you. That’s it isn’t it? I mean, it’s not like I’ve never touched my own cock before. Not like I’ve never had a blow job. Not like I don’t know what feels good. Not like I can’t figure it out.”

Jamie starts to stammer. Gary rolls his eyes at him, then looks rather pleased.

“How many dicks have you sucked, Jamie?”

“Wh-what?!”

“It’s just a question. Who taught you what to do? Who showed you that thing with your tongue? You know what I mean. Was it Gerrard? Did he like it when you did that to him?”

“I never sucked Steven Gerrard’s dick, you bastard!” Jamie’s cheeks are positively burning as he grabs the sheets with a clumsy fist, pulling it right up to his chin. 

“Ah,” Gary says, mouth twisting slightly, hinting at a smile. “But you’ve sucked someone else’s dick.”

“I just sucked yours. Cheeky.”

“Who else’s though?” Gary’s barely containing a grin. Jamie wants very badly to sock him.

“No one’s.”

“I don’t believe that, not for a second. You can’t be doing that bit with your tongue without having practiced with someone.” He inches closer to Jamie, like he might be daring him to not move away. “Should I have another guess? If I guess right, you’ll tell me?”

Jamie hisses at him, “Wait a second! This isn’t about who I’ve been sucking off! This is about you! Who’ve you been blowing all these years! Who’s cock you’ve been riding! Don’t try and turn it ‘round on me!”

“I been riding yours,” Gary sniffs, trying to look appalled. 

"But who else’s?” Jamie presses on, inching toward him. “Is it Scholes? Becks? Look, if I guess it right, you’ve got to tell me.”

“I’m not telling you anything,” he says, rolling onto his back again, flustered. Before he can say anything, Jamie’s halfway draped across him, leering down at him suggestively. “Get off. You’re too heavy.”

“It’s Giggsy,” Jamie grins, crawling onto him, straddling him triumphantly. 

“No, it’s not Giggsy. Jesus.”

Jamie smirks, sitting back a bit, to let him admire the view. He’s in good shape, may as well make Gary gawk a bit. In spite of himself, Gary lets out a low grunt of appreciation. “If I guess it right, Gary, you’ve got to tell me. You ever fuck Ryan Giggs?”

“No. I never fucked Ryan Giggs.”

“What about your other mates?”

Gary stares at him, eyes narrowing slowly as Jamie looks back. He really is quite a sight, strong and fit as he ever was, with that same wild look he’s always had, same sort of reckless bluster to him. He never could shut his mouth, could he, never did know when to shut up and let a good thing just be. But then, Gary supposed, he was sort of curious as to where the hell Jamie picked up some of those tricks he’d been plying all these six weeks. No way in hell can a man be that adept without some sort of prior experience. Gary’s certain of it. He knows.

“Why’s it matter to you?” He asks, finally. Above him, Carra cocks his head to the side, jaw setting firm. “What difference does it make if I shagged someone else?”

“It doesn’t make any difference.”

“So why’d you want to know?”

Jamie looks a little pink again and Gary can’t help but smile, reaching up to touch his face, fingers brushing lightly over his jawline. “I just wanted to know.”

“You ever ask your old girlfriends how many lads they been with before you?”

“No.”

“Right, well.”

Jamie snorts at him, leaning forward, into Gary’s touch. “But that’s not the same. You’d expect a bird to know what to do with a fella. I don’t expect you’d know how to suck a cock.”

“Would you expect a girl to know all that from the get?”

“Sure.”

“I wouldn’t.”

“Eh, but that’s you. I bet most of us would more likely suspect a girl’d know what to do than a man.”

Gary just shakes his head, arm falling to the side, away from Jamie, exhaling loudly. “Well I don’t. After all, most girls haven’t got cocks have they? And most of them haven’t spent near as much time touching them as most men have.”

Carra wrinkles his nose.

“It’s the truth.”

“Alright,” Jamie concedes, staying firmly in place, sitting on Gary’s lap.

“So it makes more sense that a man’d know what a man’d like, sexually.” Jamie stays purposely quiet. Gary gives him a sort of teasing look. “I know what I like. I just figured I’d try it on you.”

“Oh.” Jamie looks a little disappointed.

“That’s all?” Gary asks, a little surprised. 

“Just figured you’d picked it up someplace.”

Gary laughs. “What? Like in an alley or something?”

“No,” Jamie says quickly. “Not like that. I meant like—”

Gary silences by putting his arms around him, pulling him down so that they’re chest to chest, nose to nose, and then he leans in, nose pressed to Jamie ear. And then he whispers something, a name, real quiet, so quiet Jamie thinks he might’ve maybe imagined it, and when he pulls back to look Gary right in the eyes, he’s got a puzzled expression on his face.

“Him? Really?”

“We were kids. Stupid, hormonal teenagers. You know what happens when you get a bunch of pent up, horny idiots in close proximity. They fool around. We fooled around.”

“Yeah, but I never actually thought…” 

Gary watches him closely as he sinks back into the pillows. “What’s wrong? Surprised, are you?”

“A little,” he admits, settling down, resting his chin on Gary’s sternum. “Never figured he’d be your type.”

“You figured I had a type, though.”

“Of course you do.” Jamie flashes a smile at him.

“And what’s that?”

“That’s me. It’s obvious, isn’t it?” Jamie snickers. Gary groans and puts his hand over Jamie’s face to shut him up. Jamie keeps on laughing. “Look at you. You’re not denying it.”

Gary deflects. “And you, Carra? You gonna tell me who taught you that thing you do with your tongue?”

His laughter slows and Gary moves his head away, running his fingers through Jamie’s hair, tugging on a handful gently as Jamie watches him, wide-eyed.

“What’s your type, Jamie Carragher? It’s not men like me.”

Jamie almost looks somber, serious as he turns his head, ear pressed to Gary’s chest. Gary curls his arms around him accommodatingly. “Not men like you, no. Just you.”

Gary’s heart skips a beat. “Come off it, mate. Who else. Where’d you learn that trick from?”

“Your brother.” Jamie says it so deadpan, Gary almost believes it, letting out a scandalized burst of laughter. “You think I’m joking?”

“I know you’re joking.”

“Maybe your brother’s been keeping secrets from you,” Jamie teases, smiling against Gary’s skin. “How’d you know he’s not been messing around with me all this time?”

“I suppose I don’t,” Gary says, playing with Jamie’s hair still. “Except I know both of you well enough to know that’s not true. Now be honest, Jamie. Who showed you the thing? Who let you suck them off?”

Jamie tilts his chin up to look at him, lips slightly parted, a bit of longing in his eyes as he shifts, sliding up Gary’s body so his mouth is right at ear level, accent heavy, words a jumble. “You really wanna know?”

“I told you mine.”

“Yeah, you did.” Jamie sighs, hesitating, then he leans in and whispers a name into Gary’s ear.

Gary cackles under his breath. “I knew it.”

“Shut up, no you didn’t.”

“I suspected anyway.”

“No, you didn’t.” Jamie’s turned red again, though maybe not so much from embarrassment as from the thrill of the spat.

“If I’d put money on it, I’d have won the wager,” Gary says, beaming.

“Well, you didn’t,” Jamie scoffs, about to slip off of him until Gary stops him, tightening his hold on him.

“I should send him a thank you card.”

“You should not.”

“‘Thanks for teaching your mate Carra how to suck cock. It’s much appreciated’.” Gary rolls his head back, laughing. “You reckon he’d like that?”

“I reckon he’d skin both of us alive next time he saw us.” Gary hums in delight as Jamie settles back on top of him. “And anyways, he didn’t teach me that trick. That one’s a Jamie Carragher original.”

“Is it?”

“Mm. I just…” Jamie trails off, looking up to meet Gary’s eyes. “I did what I thought I’d like done to me. Didn’t know you’d come from it straight away.”

Gary makes a face at him. Jamie laughs. 

“It’s a nice trick, alright?” Gary says, once Jamie’s quieted a bit. “I quite like it.”

“I know you do,” Jamie says with a smile.

“And anyways, I don’t really care where you came up with it. I just like it. I just like it when you do it.”

Jamie blinks a few times, not sure if he’s heard Gary right. It sounds, in a roundabout way, as close to an admission of attachment as they were bound to realistically get. And his heart soars for it. And he grins for it.

“You know what I like?” Jamie asks, scooting up, lingering just above Gary, lips an inch apart, so close they can feel each other’s breathing. 

“What?”

“That thing you do when I tell you I’m close, ‘bout to come.”

Gary’s breath catches, just for a second. “What thing?”

“The thing,” Jamie says, staying perfectly still. “When I tell you I’ve got to come, and you get real tense around me, like you’ve gone tight around me cock. Like you’re squeezing me a little, trying to make me come in you.”

Gary’s eyes go a bit wide.

“Did he teach you that? Hm?”

He shakes his head, suddenly woozy. “You taught me that, Carra.”

Jamie coughs. “Me?”

“You did it, so I figured you must like it. I did to you like you did to me, and I listened to you, felt how you moved, and responded in kind. I did what I thought you’d like. That’s all.”

“Chrissake, Gary.”

“Well, it worked, didn’t it? You like it, yeah?”

“Well, yes, but—”

“But nothing. You taught me to fuck men, you muppet.”

“But—”

“But nothing,” Gary says again, closing his eyes, still holding Jamie tight. “You aren’t my first. You’re my now.”

Jamie shuts his eyes too, thinking it over. Admittedly, he’d been unrelenting in wanting to know everything, because knowing every detail of Gary’s past might mean he’d have a better understanding of the man and of what might come in the future. But who cares, really, if Gary’s been with other men? What difference does it make? He does the little things Carra likes, just the way Carra likes them, and at the end of the day, he’s still going to tease him for it, just the way Carra likes it. Whether Jamie’s his first or his fiftieth, they’re together now, learning what each other likes, memorizing the ways to make each other come undone and go crazy. And in the end, what else did they really need? Brushing his lips softly over Gary’s chest, he decided they really didn’t need anything else.

“You’re my now too,” Jamie whispers to himself, voice so quiet Gary can hardly even hear him. But he squeezes Jamie close anyway, protective in a way, and they stay like that until they both drift to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> here's your obligatory [song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D8axiZqKkcw).
> 
> and also sign ups for the [carraville fic exchange](http://carravillexchange.tumblr.com/) are still happening! check it out, y'all!


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